


Interlude: Whispers in the Dark

by deprough



Series: The Mandalorian's Jobs [8]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Misunderstandings, Nightmares, Pining, Slow Burn, Strangers to Family, Twi'leks (Star Wars), after ep4 we're off on our own alternate canon arc, both ones clarified and ones left in place, canon compliant through ep4, i put all the pining in this one guys, time jump for the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deprough/pseuds/deprough
Summary: Mando has a revelation.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin, Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Mandalorian's Jobs [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588885
Comments: 12
Kudos: 16





	Interlude: Whispers in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Content warnings first: discriptions of violence (kept vague), explicit dreams.
> 
> I wanted to preface this with a quick note about time in the SW universe. If you know all this, you can skip. A week is five days long, and a month is seven weeks long. Since I reference time passing in the story, I wanted to be sure that the readers don't get confused. 
> 
> This fic also kicked my butt. My first draft of this work was November 5th. I've been writing, revising, and editing it since that day. First there passages that didn't feel right, then I realized something was missing and added it. I was still adding bits to clarify and improve the story. I feels like its done, but my writing as betrayed me before. 
> 
> I once read an artist (sorry, long forgotten who) commenting on completing work. They noted that finishing is the hardest thing because it'll never be done, really. There comes a point where you just have to stop yourself, acknowledge that you've done all you can, and to allow yourself to be finished. I feel good about this work for the first time since I've started, but I'm not going to hold it back any longer. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it. It feels good to progress The Jobs Series again. :)

The day after they left Udhun, the incoming message light blinked on. It’s origin was Naboo, and Mando paused his Huttese language holo to reach out and open the message. Bastion’s solid visage appeared in blue ethereal lines, and Mando felt a surge of disappointment. It’d been more than a week since he’d left Parjii on Naboo, and some part of him hoped she’d reach out to him and contact him.

_ “Mando, you have got to work on your communication skills,” _ Bastion started without greeting.  _ “I only found out today that Parjii didn’t know you were planning to come back for her. If you wanted it to be a surprise, you should have told me, and then kriffed yourself for doing that. That woman misses her baby, and probably you, too, though only the Maker knows why. And until I mentioned it, she didn’t think she was seeing either of you again.” _

Mando paused the message, filled with dismay. How could she not know that he’d be back to check on her? He wasn’t sure where the breakdown had happened, but he suspected that Bastion was right and he’d kriffed it up. The urge to go to Naboo rose, and he almost changed course. There was more message, and Mando continued it.

_ “So do me a favor, please. Send her a holo,” _ Bastion said. It was a request, but it had the hard edge of an order in it. Mando had never found out where the other man had served but he had no doubt that he had been part of a military, somewhere.  _ “She’s sending you one under the guise of practicing her Basic, and you should have it today or tomorrow. And for the love of the Maker, if you do bother holoing her back, communicate with her. Tell her what she can expect from you. Even telling her why you dropped off here would help because she thinks she failed you.” _

Before he could absorb that last piece of information, Bastion’s tone turned business-like.  _ “She’s got basic stealth skills, and natural agility to build on. Her scores on the range are above what most would be at this stage, and she’s got a tremendous amount of patience and ability to hold herself in awkward positions for long periods of time. She’d make a hell of a sniper, and I’m going to train her in the rifle, the sniper rifle, and the holdout.  _

_ “She’s shakier on the melee fighting, but her bo-work is strong so we’re focusing there for now,”  _ the presumed ex-soldier continued.  _ “With hand-to-hand, she’s got a slave’s typical reflex to not punch someone, so we’re having to untrain and retrain, and you remember what a pain in the ass that can be.” Mando nodded automatically. “Her Basic’s better already since her roommate has thoroughly immersed her in the language, and she likes the speeder bikes -- bit of a speed-demon once she got the courage to cut loose. Overall, she’s doing great, tin-head. Now. Holo her and apologize for being a kriff-up. Least you can do. I’ll report again next week.”  _

Bastion’s image winked away, and Mando flopped back in his seat. He’d told her he was coming back for her.  _ I did tell her. Didn’t I? _ He had a memory of it, but he’d just woken up and his exact wording had long scrambled in his brain. Maybe he hadn’t been clear.

If she’d thought he was abandoning her, why hadn’t she said anything? Why hadn’t she even asked to come with him? To stay? 

_ Was that why she kissed me?  _ Mando shoved that thought away. He’d tried to forget that moment, but with Bastion’s information, he was forced to face it once more. Had she been trying a last-ditch effort to seduce him? He had the bad feeling that he’d have to ask her directly for an answer, and he didn’t want to open that topic. 

And why did she think she’d failed? Was it because she’d lost a fistfight with Toro? After he’d been sure she’d survive, he’d been proud of her willingness to fight at all. She hadn’t been trained for combat, and Toro had; for her to try, even knowing she’d lose, spoke of determination and bravery. 

His incoming message light blinked again and Mando started the recording. Parjii leapt to life in hues of blue in front of his eyes, and Mando’s chest tightened. The Kid was asleep in the cargo bay, and he pulled the helmet off so he could see her with his own eyes rather than through the visor.  _ “Hello, Mando!”  _ she greeted cheerfully, as if she’d never believed he’d abandon her.  _ “Bastion told me to send you this holo to practice my Basic. So I may pause at strange times to be sure I’m correct.”  _ There was a skip in the recording and she amended,  _ “That I’m speaking correctly.” _

“You’re doing great,” he told her, smiling. 

_ “So.”  _ She looked abashed.  _ “Today, Bastion tell me.”  _ She hesitated and the recording skipped again.  _ “Tells me that you are not planning to leave me with the Academy for all time.”  _ Skip.  _ “Forever, I mean. He tells me that you can return--” _ She frowned thoughtfully but didn’t pause.  _ “Will return in around thirteen weeks. I miss you and The Kid very much. I cannot wait to see you both. _

_ “But guess what? I win a race! I mean, I won a race.”  _ Her face lit up with a glorious smile as she told him about her training, especially riding on the speeder bikes. He honestly wasn’t listening to each word; instead, he was watching her face, enjoying the simple pleasure of seeing it without filters. It was the closest he'd ever get to seeing her with his own eyes. 

He knew all of this was a problem, because he cared about her far more than he’d realized. 

He’d heard the stories about mating with non-Mandalorians. They always ended sadly, with both sides hurt. Romance wasn’t part of his life, and he’d known that before accepting the Creed. The Fighting Corps had been very clear that it was possible to know love in the heady, early days of the relationship, but once a partner realized all they lost by never seeing their lover’s face, they left or became miserable. The stories about those that just left were the happy ones; the tragic ones involved suicide, murder, and trecherery. The worst ones were warnings about mates slipping helmets off their sleeping loves, aching to see their faces.  _ Love can fell a Mandalorian faster than any blaster. _ That saying had been ground into his head relentlessly during his training. He’d never understood it until now, and he was starting to suspect that he hadn’t experienced the worst of it.

_ You will if you keep going down this road, _ a quiet little voice in his head warned.

The holo froze and Parjii disappeared. Mando could breathe again and realized he’d barely listened to her words. Putting his helmet back on, he started the holo again. Being fully encased in the armor of his legend helped him remain detached. 

He had to pause the holo once when Parjii leaned toward the recorder to show him her knuckles. Bruised and scabbed, she said,  _ “I no… I do not like hitting people. It hurts! But Bastion say I can--”  _ She sighed and the video skipped. “ _ He says I can have weighted gloves when I’m better.” _ She held up her fist again, and he stopped there for a moment, feeling a swell of pride in her marks of battle. 

When the holo finished again, he saved hers and started a recording. “Hi, Parjii. I’m glad to hear your training is going so well. Your Basic is much better.” He smiled a little and said, “ _ Jee 'sh tak Huttese. Kava jee ooing? _ ”  _ I’m speaking in Huttese. How am I doing? _

He spoke about The Kid, and how he was doing. At first, it felt strange to talk about his life to someone that wasn’t here, but it got easier. To his surprise, he told her about his recent bounties, the ornathins and their beauty, and how quiet the  _ Crest _ was without her. He even complained about the rations, something he’d never thought he’d do in his life. Once he’d run out of things to say, he finished with, “I’ll see you in just under thirteen weeks. I look forward to shooting with you on the range.”

~ * ~ * ~

They messaged about once a week after that. He quickly figured out she was recording her messages over a week’s time, then sending it as a single big message, so he started to do the same. He played her messages for The Kid, but the little one didn’t seem to understand that it was from Parjii. He still reacted more to Mando saying her name than he did to her image -- right until Parjii sent over a recording of her singing lullabies. Something about that familiar comfort registered with the baby when the grainy image didn’t. 

One topic they didn’t broach was the kiss at their parting. Mando wasn’t sure if she was waiting for him to bring it up, or if she didn’t want to talk about it. He wasn’t going to mention it because once they had that talk, he had to tell her no. The thought of closing the door on a more intense relationship with her hurt; though he’d never indulge in one, he took a strange comfort in the possibility. 

He's been here before and he knew what came next. Someone had seen through the armor, to see  _ him _ , and they liked who they saw there. He didn’t want to let go of that feeling, not after all the other times he’d released that feeling with other people. He was tired of the loss, and so he held onto it.  _ Just a little longer _ , he told himself. He just wanted to hold that feeling a little bit longer.

The days marched by, and Mando continued his routine: set down on a planet, work it for at least one day and no more than five, then jump to the next planet. He took small bounties, just enough for supplies and to keep the  _ Crest _ in the air, and generally tried to draw as little attention as possible. 

He still had nightmares but he didn’t dwell on them, not even when they involved her.

Most of the bounties were routine, even boring. Bail-jumpers, petty criminals, once a noble’s former seneschal who ran away with the noble’s son. Mando had only been paid to bring the servant back, but it was clear that the young noble was besotted with the older man, and he’d paid Mando to take him back with the seneschal. That bounty had been almost amusing, once he’d figured out why he’d been hired to return the servant.

The hunt for Bujy Doufane had been different. After, Mando returned to the  _ Crest _ exhausted, worn in body and spirit. The Kid had been spared the horror of it, so had plenty of energy left to fight bathtime, eating rations, and bedtime. Playing Parjii’s lullabies helped the child settle, but did nothing to help the loneliness that crowded in on Mando. 

As if she’d known, there was a new message from her. Mando listened to it twice and thought about responding, but he needed a shower first. When he’d showered and eaten, he was too tired to go back up to the cockpit. Instead, he crawled into his bunk. He thought he’d fall asleep immediately, but instead he lay in the dark, unable to stop thinking about today.

He had a small holo recorder in storage, and he turned it on in the pitch blackness of his bunk. “There’s nothing wrong with your screen,” he said, wincing a little about how tired his naked voice sounded. “I just…” He wasn’t sure what he should say, so he said what he wanted to say: “I wish you’d been here today. I needed someone to be here, to take care of The Kid. And, honestly, me. I need that, but I can’t really have it, not and have the Creed. 

“Today, I hunted a Togruta who--” Din’s voice caught and he paused the recording until he could speak again. “He had murdered a baron’s wife because she rejected his advances, and ended up on this backwater, living as a villager but slipping away into the hills to pick off the native shepherds for sport. And when I tried to apprehend him, he--” Din swallowed and forced out the words. “He just ran through the village, killing everyone he could. I had to step over dead chi--” He stopped again, waiting for his throat to loosen enough to talk. “It didn’t matter who it was, if they were moving, he killed because he knew I was about to arrest him. If I’d known--”

He started again, wondering why he was telling her this but unable to stop. “There are always missions, bounties, where you wonder if you did the right thing. If you did it the  _ right _ way. If I’d known he’d run from me so he could kill just a few more people…” He trailed off, thinking. “I was supposed to bring him in alive. I shot him in the head, and I’ll get a quarter of my pay for it, and my only regret is that I didn’t wait until he’d left town to go hunting. 

“I wish you’d been here when I got back,” he continued. “The  _ Crest _ is home, but it’s so cold and quiet without you here. Even on a desert planet, the ship feels like there’s no warmth here. You’re part of what makes it a home now, and I’m afraid you’ll decide to stay at the Academy. That our life is too dangerous. I have no doubt that you love The Kid completely, but I know you’ve had a hard life so far and deserve more now. Better things. A life of peace and joy. I can’t give that to you, ever. I could break the Creed, but that would break  _ me _ . I need to be part of it, and I know I can’t have you, and it, too. And I’ll choose the Creed, Parjii. It’s only fair that you know that, too.”

Tears ran down his face, but Din didn’t think they could be heard in his voice. Sorrow, yes, but not the trembling of weeping. “Because you shouldn’t continue, thinking that I could give you what you deserve. You can’t love a legend who has no face, and I can’t be a man. I’m Mandalorian.” He inhaled, and now he could hear the shake in his voice. “I’m sorry, Parjii.”

He stopped the recording and let the tears run their course. These moments of weakness were normal, his trainers had told him. They were legends, but also people, and they had emotions. So he let the tears rage and pass on the darkness of his bunk, then listened to the recording again.

_ I can’t send this to her, _ he sighed to himself. This was one of those ‘little steps’ his trainers had spoken of in training; a tiny action that didn’t violate the Creed but bent its intention. He deleted the message, then turned over and let exhaustion carry him to sleep.

_ He leaned against the wall, hands planted on it, holding himself immobile. Parjii stripped away his clothing, starting with his boots. The stars and the moon watched as everything was removed but his helmet. She slipped between him and the wall, and whispered, “Kiss me.” _

_ He pressed the forehead of his helmet to her forehead, and she pressed herself to his body. She hadn’t stripped but somehow she was suddenly naked and he sank into her warmth. They were in a bed and he rolled so she was on top, so he could watch the motions of her body as she rode him. _

_ “Don’t leave me,” he begged, his hands exploring her skin.  _

_ “I won’t, you’ll leave me,” she told him. _

_ “No, never.”  _

_ “Yes, you will,” she said sadly, “when I do this.” In a swift motion, she pulled off his helmet.  _

Din jerked awake, panting in the darkness of his bunk. His body throbbed with arousal and fear, and a brush of his clothing was enough to make him come. He groaned through the pleasure, which only made his heart race more. 

“Maker,” he breathed when he finally could speak. In swift motions, he got cleaned up and dressed, then marched down to the cargo hold. He wasn’t going to sleep in his bunk for a while; he wasn’t resting, and after today, he had needed a good night’s sleep. They’d be at the noble’s planet soon, and Mando needed to be alert in case there was a problem. 

~ * ~ * ~

Sleep never came, and so Mando dragged himself in front of the widower Lord Bartyl Braste feeling hungover. The noble scowled as he stared down at the body of Doufane. “I was specific,” Lord Braste growled. “I wanted him alive.”

“Yes, Lord Braste,” Mando said softly, hoping he didn’t sound as grumpy as he felt. “He was killing people. I made the choice to stop him rather than restrain him.”

The glare he was receiving from the noble eased and the man tilted his head. For a long moment, the armored warrior and well-dressed noble considered one another. Finally, the red-haired Braste sighed and said, “I’m loathe to violate the terms we agreed upon.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” Mando replied, wondering wearily how much longer this was going to take. The Kid would only tolerate being locked aboard the  _ Crest _ for so long.

“It’s strange, loving someone you can’t be with.” Braste’s statement caused Mando to stiffen.  _ How did he know about Parjii? _ he frantically wondered as Braste continued, “When Adese was here, it was easy to give her a kiss. Now, I wish to continue loving her, but I can’t do so as if she were here to touch.”

He loved her. He knew it from his misunderstood reaction to Braste’s words. The noble fell silent, giving Mando a chance to regain his equilibrium. He’d screwed up, and done the one thing he should have never allowed. He should be upset or angry. Instead, he just felt trapped by his own heart, caught in a fight he didn’t know how to win. 

The silence had stretched as Mando had emotionally reoriented himself. An attendant in the throne room shifted and cleared his throat. “Lord Braste?” Mando ventured when the nobleman didn’t respond, staring into the distance.

Braste pulled himself back from his musings. “My wife. She would be here, telling me that though you and I are unwilling to change the terms of our agreement, I should do  _ something _ . You brought peace to her soul, and quarter-pay seems a poor way to repay someone who gave her that gift while doing the right thing. I would have never set those terms had I understood-- Well, nevermind. Here is what I will do: you will receive the agreed upon payment but I will grant you a gift. Name what you would have, and if it is in my power, I’ll give it to you.”

Mando had never heard of anything like this, and he found himself at a loss. “That’s very generous, but not what we agree--”

Braste waved his statement away and said, “This is  _ outside _ our agreement, and is a gift. What do you want? Surely, there’s something you’ve needed or wanted that you couldn’t afford.”

Mando started to decline, but stopped himself. Braste’s musing about love reminded him of a promise he’d made. “A holo pad,” he told the noble.

“I’ll have one delivered to your ship, if that meets with your satisfaction,” Braste told him. 

“Thank you. I appreciate your fair dealings,” On the walk back to the  _ Crest _ , Mando considered the noble’s views on love. He couldn’t give up the Creed for her; he couldn’t give her the life she deserved and eventually, she’d leave him for that life. 

Even so, Braste was right; there were other ways to show love besides sharing a life. He could protect her, provide for her, and care for her until the day she left him. He could make her as happy as he could without violating his Creed, and it would be enough.

Feeling better than he had in a long time, Mando went to rescue the  _ Crest _ from The Kid.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Come join me on Tumblr, where I routinely post my thoughts and feelings on all things Mandalorian and Star Wars, and usually daily post excerpts from the witing I did that day. Find me @deprough!


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